Chapter Text
What if this storm ends?
And I don’t see you
As you are now
Ever again
“The Lightning Strike” by Snow Patrol
Jiang Cheng is not clumsy.
He just didn’t see the gigantic fucking rock hidden in the tall grass, nor did he expect Nie Huaisang to stumble over it. Frankly, he’s surprised he’s here, in this field, in the first place.
Wei Wuxian disclosed the location to Nie Huaisang without any prompting. A cozy clearing tucked into the secret corners of the Cloud Recesses, where few young disciples strayed. Or, more accurately, dared to stray. No one wants to incur the wrath of Lan Qiren (with the exception of Jiang Cheng’s shameless brother).
Why did Wei Wuxian feel compelled to show Nie Huaisang his new hiding spot? That remains to be seen. Not that Jiang Cheng has put much thought into the matter of them spending time together. It’s fine; they’re friends. That’s what friends do. And maybe Nie Huaisang liked hanging out with Wei Wuxian more than Jiang Cheng but—
None of that matters anyway since Nie Huaisang is here with Jiang Cheng now. Even if he did trip over a rock and pull both of them to the ground.
The breath is knocked right out of Jiang Cheng. He reaches out blindly and tucks Nie Huaisang into his embrace. Squeezing him against his chest, Jiang Cheng attempts to shield Huaisang from injury. Branches crack underneath their backs, and flowers are flattened by their rolling bodies. Jiang Cheng knows he’s going to be sore by the time he reaches a stopping point.
Whenever that is.
“Jiang-xiong, oh my—” Nie Huaisang’s cries morph into delighted trills of laughter. The sound reverberates in Jiang Cheng’s ears as they roll and roll and, finally, come to a halt in the middle of the field.
Jiang Cheng winces. There’s an elbow digging into his stomach. Or at least he thinks—he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. There’s also a dull ache in the space between his shoulder blades, centered around that particular section of vertebrae. His robes are askew, fabric twisted with his pants. But, luckily, both his shoes and his headpiece survived the fall.
A slew of curses tumbles out of his mouth. If only he’d been paying attention. It’s too late now, though. Hindsight is 20-20. All he can do is pry open his eyes to the glaring sunlight.
And, apparently, a looming Nie Huaisang.
“Oh wow,” he gasps, a bit breathless, “that was intense.”
Their nose-dive into the grass certainly got Jiang Cheng’s pulse pounding. A glance over his shoulder confirms that the hill they crested dipped into the clearing, providing the momentum needed to send them rolling.
But Jiang Cheng is far more preoccupied with the weight on his chest.
“Ow,” Jiang Cheng protests through a wheeze. You’re heavy, he almost says but thinks better of it. Which is a miracle when it comes to… well, when it comes to him. “That’s one way to put it.”
Nie Huaisang hums softly to himself and his breath tickles Jiang Cheng’s chin. His lips are practically touching Jiang Cheng’s, honestly, and that’s not alright. Not in the slightest. How did he get so close? Doesn’t it bother him, too?
“And fun. Don’t forget fun.” Nie Huaisang simpers, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “If it hadn’t been for Jiang-xiong, I probably would be bleeding and whining about scraping my knees.”
“Yes, you’re welcome for that,” Jiang Cheng comments dryly, but he can’t hold back a smile. “You should also thank me for my quick thinking, while you’re at it.”
Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes. “ Fine. Thank you. I am in prime condition thanks to big, strong Jiang-xiong!”
Any clever remarks have all but abandoned Jiang Cheng. This—the way he’s feeling—it’s beyond strange. Nie Huaisang’s body settled on top of his is a relaxing source of comfort.
An image of a tipsy Nie Huaisang shoves itself to the forefront of Jiang Cheng’s mind. He and Wei Wuxian were drunk, too, that night. Drunk on Emperor’s Smile and each other’s company. They sat around the table with jugs of liquor and plenty of snacks to go around.
Of the three of them, Nie Huaisang had the most charming reaction to alcohol. It could’ve been Jiang Cheng’s imagination, but he swore Huaisang’s gaze kept drifting to him, hovering for an instant before darting away. Almost guilty in its flightiness. Admittedly, his blush kept drawing Jiang Cheng’s attention, too. For reasons he couldn’t—and still can’t—understand.
In this moment, lying in the sun surrounded by stalks of grass and vibrantly colored blossoms, Jiang Cheng is reminded of that night, not long ago.
A rosy pink dusts Nie Huaisang’s cheeks. Round and soft-looking. Jiang Cheng wonders if his skin would be warm and imagines what it would be like to find out. To sneak one of his hands out from under Nie Huaisang’s torso, currently crushing his arms to his chest, and touch. To satisfy his curiosity.
His fingers twitch against where they’re sandwiched between his belly and Nie Huaisang’s. And—wait. What the fuck? What is he doing? Thinking about—about stroking Nie Huaisang’s face? Because—
“Are you okay, Jiang-xiong?” Nie Huaisang’s concerned tone drags Jiang Cheng away from his thoughts. “You look like you ate the blandest Gusu Lan dish ever made.”
Jiang Cheng splutters, “Wh—yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Nie Huaisang arches a brow.
He has yet to climb off Jiang Cheng.
Technically, Jiang Cheng hasn’t asked him.
But, at the same time, he can’t be comfortable half-lying on top of Jiang Cheng. Although he has yet to complain. Huaisang's smile doesn’t waver, wide and radiating the sort of joy that makes Jiang Cheng squirm. It isn’t often directed at him. Jiang Cheng has a greater chance of pissing someone off than pleasing them.
“Okay, seriously,” Nie Huaisang snickers, “what’s your deal? You look like you’re going to be sick, Jiang-xiong!”
Jiang Cheng blinks. “I…”
Nie Huaisang cranes his neck a little to the left, enough to sniff at the collar of his robes. He aims a perplexed look at Jiang Cheng. “Do I smell?”
Is he serious? Jiang Cheng snorts. “Of course not.”
“Oh.” Nie Huaisang’s flush darkens to crimson. “Oh, okay. That’s certainly a relief.”
Jiang Cheng struggles to draw in a breath. His brain can’t keep up with everything happening. The light aroma of lavender in the air, the pressure of their joined bodies, the heat from the sun—it’s overwhelming. Jiang Cheng feels like he’s on the precipice but can’t, for the life of him, figure out what he’s on the precipice of. Like he’s dangling off the edge of a cliff with no clear line of sight to the bottom, to the pit he’s doomed to fall in.
“Ah, Jiang-xiong…” Nie Huaisang drifts off, the rest of his sentence lost to the wind. The gap between them appears to shrink with each passing second.
Jiang Cheng can barely choke out a response. “What?”
Nie Huaisang turns his head to the side, gazing at the surrounding dandelions and canola plants. His lashes flutter as he takes in the scenery. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng traces the outline of his profile. The slope of his nose, a curve tapering into the tip, and the jut of his chin that accentuates his parted lips.
At first, he doesn’t realize Nie Huaisang is speaking—is addressing him.
“Huh?” Jiang Cheng gawks.
But Nie Huaisang laughs it off with a shake of his head. “I said, isn’t this a lovely view?”
Jiang Cheng’s mouth feels dry. His eyes never stray from Nie Huaisang, framed by the golden light streaming through the clouds. Like a painting in the flesh. “It is.”
Where is this coming from? Jiang Cheng wishes his hands were free. He needs to smack some sense into himself, slap his palms over his cheeks. Hard. What the hell is wrong with me?
He’s hung out with Nie Huaisang before. On multiple occasions. Why is it… different this time? Weird, really.
“Too bad Lan Qiren couldn’t teach us out here, hm?” Nie Huaisang tips his head, his focus on Jiang Cheng once again. “That would be a refreshing change.”
Jiang Cheng grapples for a way to dissipate the tension. “Wouldn’t you be even more distracted?”
Nie Huaisang knits his brows. “Good point…”
Inexplicably, Nie Huaisang’s stare intensifies. It cuts through Jiang Cheng, like Huaisang can see straight into his soul, his golden core. The longer he stares without saying a word, the more Jiang Cheng wishes he could melt into the ground or disintegrate into a pile of dust.
“What?” Jiang Cheng barks. “Do I smell?”
Nie Huaisang opens his mouth to speak, but the breeze envelops the words.
Is he this much of a klutz? He sways where he’s perched, still halfway on top of Jiang Cheng. A spark of surprise lights up his eyes, and Jiang Cheng has a second to appreciate their caramel color before apprehension sinks in.
Nie Huaisang is close already, but he’s getting closer. And closer. And closer and—
With all the grace of a gangly teenager, Nie Huaisang flops forward, fully on Jiang Cheng’s chest. Their foreheads collide with a painful thwack, as well as their noses, but that’s far from Jiang Cheng’s greatest concern.
There are lips on his lips.
Supple and pliant and—yes, their teeth clack together, but that doesn’t matter. Because any pain is overshadowed by the pressure of Nie Huaisang’s mouth against his own. The faint taste of the tea they shared earlier, sweet and better than when Jiang Cheng sipped it from his cup. A yelp bursts out of Nie Huaisang the moment they collide, a noise Jiang Cheng accepts unwittingly.
Holy sh—
Jiang Cheng’s brain conveniently abandons him, leaving the rest of his body to take the fall. He can hardly process what’s happening. A flood of sensations crashes into Jiang Cheng all at once, making it nearly impossible for him to parse them. His emotions in the aftermath are a fucking mess.
To make matters worse, Nie Huaisang isn’t moving either. Merely hovering with his lips smushed against Jiang Cheng’s, fingers curled into the front of his robes. His hands somehow got caught between them when he tipped forward.
Move, Jiang Cheng pleads while his subconscious protests, No, please stay!
So, instead, they both remain stuck in place. Jiang Cheng always thought his first kiss would be with a cute girl along the pier back home. She would shyly kiss him as the sun set in the backdrop. A quick, chaste kiss.
But, no—he’s in a field of flowers, in a hidden corner of the Cloud Recesses, with a throbbing forehead and lips clumsily claimed by Nie Huaisang.
It feels like an eternity before Nie Huaisang pulls away. A thin string of spit connects their lips as they part, and, fuck if that isn’t even more embarrassing. Jiang Cheng didn’t think that was something that actually happened.
“Oh, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang rambles, “I’m so sorry, I—”
Jiang Cheng spies a tiny cut on Nie Huaisang’s bottom lip and it seems swollen. Did Jiang Cheng… bite his lip? When they…?
Nie Huaisang’s voice is barely more than a whisper, trembling at the end. “What are you doing?”
The question doesn’t register with Jiang Cheng at first. Other than Nie Huaisang leaning back after the kiss, if it can even be called that, they’re still lying in the grass. Their bodies partially intertwined. What does Nie Huaisang mean, asking Jiang Cheng what he’s doing?
Jiang Cheng lowers his gaze from Nie Huaisang’s inquisitive stare. Oh.
That’s Jiang Cheng’s thumb, pressed to the swell of Nie Huaisang’s lower lip. Brushing lightly over the split he noticed earlier.
Jiang Cheng yanks his hand back and lets out a squeak. Apparently he has to deal with the consequences; he seriously wants to die.
“Sorry.” Jiang Cheng can hardly manage the apology past the lump in his throat. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” Nie Huaisang says, achingly honest. Like it really is alright that Jiang Cheng smoothed the pad of his thumb over Nie Huaisang’s lip. An intimate gesture not meant for two friends. “Like I said, I should be the one apologizing.”
Slowly but surely Jiang Cheng’s grip on logic and sanity return to him.
Intelligently, he blurts, “That was my first kiss.”
Nie Huaisang blanches. His mouth shapes into an ‘o,’ and Jiang Cheng is certain his soul leaves his body. Why— why did he feel the need to share that information? That’s the last thing he needed to say right now. Or ever, for that matter. Even if his inexperience seems standard to anyone who knows him.
“Oh, I…” Nie Huaisang wets his lips, and Jiang Cheng watches in rapt fascination. “Jiang-xiong, I’m so very sorry. I promise it was an accident!”
Little does Nie Huaisang know his protests don’t have the intended effect. In all honesty, it makes Jiang Cheng feel worse. Of course it was an accident, but maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have minded if Nie Huaisang kissed him on purpose.
Okay, seriously , where the fuck is this coming from? Jiang Cheng plasters on a smile, or at least the closest approximation by his terms. “Don’t worry about it.”
Nie Huaisang worries at his lip. “Are you sure? I mean, if it makes you feel any better…”
He trails off, and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him, scrutinizing.
“I also…” Nie Huaisang twirls his bangs around his finger, a nervous habit Jiang Cheng has witnessed during Lan Qiren’s lectures. “It’s mine, too.”
His, too? “Your… what?”
Nie Huaisang drops his hands to his sides and lowers his voice. “First kiss.”
Jiang Cheng nearly chokes on his own saliva.